


Eyes Blue Like the Hudson River

by darlingjegulus



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Genre: Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, M/M, Nick Carraway Narrating, Oblivious Jay Gatsby, Short One Shot, and therefore so did i baby, f scott fitzgerald made nick an unreliable narrator, insert ben wyatt 'it's about the yearning' meme here, nick is pathetically in love and he doesnt even know it lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28401735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingjegulus/pseuds/darlingjegulus
Summary: Gatsby extends an invitation to Nick for a morning venture into his hydroplane.The latter gladly accepts.
Relationships: Nick Carraway/Jay Gatsby
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Eyes Blue Like the Hudson River

**Author's Note:**

> this is in honor of the copyright for the great gatsby running out this upcoming new years! been meaning to write this for a few months now! enjoy, old sport!

Gatsby had invited me to try out his brand new hydroplane the previous night. He had been so enthusiastic with his request that it was near impossible to deny him the pleasure. 

There was something incredibly convincing that accompanied every word Jay Gatsby spoke. He made every idea sound so perfect, so impeccably entertaining. If any man could make something like sitting in the incessant traffic of New York City any less dull, it would be him. Jay spoke as though he were simultaneously running out of time and yet .. still patient enough to keep up his neverending charisma, his methods for becoming the human embodiment of charm and captivation. 

I got the feeling that these personifications were reserved for only a small group of individuals, those whom Gatsby cherished, traits not needing to be divulged to the hundreds of strangers who flocked to his estate for his extravagant gatherings. 

I suppose, in a way, I felt as though this version of Jay Gatsby was reserved for me. 

And yet, he was still little more than a stranger. The flocks of partygoers were scarcely different from myself, still so locked away from the true intricacies that lived within New York’s greatest kept secret. Not half a day earlier, I was still being bombarded by conflicting rumors. There was confusion on whether the host of that illustrious occasion was a relative of a cruel German king or possessed with the reputation of a cold-blooded murderer. When I was introduced to the genuine character, it was difficult to place my true reaction. Underwhelmed could be a suitable description, though that appears entirely too negative. Gatsby seemed to humble himself, rendering all the rumors and hearsay pointless. There he stood, classically human, with no extraordinarily defining characteristics pardoning an enticing smile and warm eyes, inviting me to become entangled in his fairytale of a lifestyle, promising an escapade to captivate any man’s attention to no end. I was only his neighbor, and he took an instant liking to me, the cause behind that curiosity completely lost on me. He was supremely fascinating. 

“Don’t forget, old sport; we’ll be going out on my hydroplane at 9 o’clock tomorrow morning.” That was the reminder he gave as he walked away, disappearing into the hidden depths of his mansion, allowing the party to come to a conclusion on its own accord.

I was right on time.  
He was early. 

I found him standing at the end of his dock, staring out, apparently gazing over towards East Egg. Interestingly enough, his gaze could have been deemed in perfect alignment with that of the house where my cousin found herself. This was discarded as a coincidence. The likelihood of Daisy being an acquaintance of Gatsby's felt like a peculiar concept, though not entirely impossible. Perhaps she had once been a guest at a party, enveloped by the thrash of the crowds, becoming one of them, no longer the rich and esteemed Daisy Buchanan, just another girl enjoying the thrill of the music and the alcohol. Or maybe he hadn’t any idea of who she was, and just felt compelled to survey the bay we were about to venture out into, making sure everything was perfect.

Jay turned around and bore that same smile he had shown me the night before. This time it was more subtle, more friendly, more welcoming, no longer burdened by a maddening environment, too preposterous for any real intimacy. 

He gestures over to his plane, beckoning me closer.  
“Do you like it? Just purchased it last week. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

It was. Meticulously crafted, with a wide-stretching wingspan, fitting for a man of Gatsby’s wealth. The plane sat on the water, unstirred, benefiting from a calm day for water, an impeccable time to go for a sail. The stillness provided an opportunity to observe even more details, like the navy blue coloring, decorated by an engraving of the initials J.G. on the side in stunning gold. 

I gave a polite nod.  
“It’s wonderful. Must have cost you a fortune, with all the things you added.”

There isn’t a response. Just another warm expression, silently handing out its thanks, accepting my compliment with humility. I assumed that he was yet to become comfortable enough with my presence to share any further details. Surely he felt that a new acquaintance needn’t be bothered by such trivial things, though to tell the truth, those seemingly unimportant factors could give me a closer view into his life. 

Perhaps that was what he was trying to avoid.  
I didn’t feel it necessary to ponder any further. 

He boards, with me following close behind. There is a decent amount of space, just the right amount for two men of our stature to be comfortable. Gatsby situates himself in the driver's position, giving a glance my way, short, but long enough to draw my attention. 

My eyes meet with his and linger. I had recognized just how captivating he was, how exceptionally handsome Gatsby appeared the night prior. That much was clear. This was only accentuated in the sunlight, the water reflecting perfectly onto his skin. It felt as though the world was his and his alone, a landscape handcrafted for him to walk upon, delighting every person he comes across with his presence. Those eyes were blue like the Hudson River, the same cascade of color manifesting itself in the two orbs between his ears.

“Did you enjoy the party last night?” We set sail, and Jay fixes his gaze back onto the water.

I finally realize that perhaps my staring is becoming uncomfortable, and my eyes follow his, observing the gentle movement of the water, pushing back against the sides of the hydroplane.  
“Ah, yes, I did. Was surprised to see I was the only one actually invited.” A smile comes to my lips and a chuckle escapes from his. 

One hand rises to lean against his jaw, a ringed finger shifting higher than the rest, brushing up beside the lower portion of his cheek. I can’t help but become fixated on his hand, how elegant it looked, making him look almost weirdly powerful, the commander of this vessel sitting on his makeshift throne. 

“Well, old sport, I considered you an honored guest, I wanted to make sure you would be there.”  
He sounded oddly excited as he spoke, as though there were ulterior motives at play, stretching beyond a kindling friendship between neighbors. I didn’t quite feel like burrowing deeper into his mind and his life at the present moment, though that surely would’ve provided answers for my confusion. 

Gatsby gave me another warm look before looking back onto the water, and I resigned to my obliviousness in the matter, seeing no other option but to watch with him yet again, finding something new to admire with every passing second. 

And so we beat on, boats against the current …

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like i left so much open that i could return to this and write a sequel? do let me know what you think and what you'd like! thanks for reading!!!


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